The Revenge of the Fop
by Pimpernelunderthecelticmoon
Summary: Raoul's revenge on a man who buys HIS pair of slippers HE wanted. They were HIS! Now COMPLETE! Please review! I LOVE reviews! New! The Raoul Song!
1. Default Chapter

The Revenge of the Fop

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the opera, I am not a fan! DOWN WITH THE PHANS

Could it be true? No he reassured himself, it couldn't be what he thought it was NO it was! The new slippers! Oh, what joy what eternal bliss! I must have them Raoul thought, yes it's mine, my own, my precious! He gave an evil smile and strolled into the busy street. The carriages swarmed around him, people yelled "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" but his eyes lingered on his prize. Suddenly a cart racing down the street plowed him over. Yet, as soon as the cart was off of him, despite the broken bones he obviously had, he dragged himself to the side walk. Then the unthinkable, a man strolled in bought the slippers and walked out. "NO!" he cried in anguish, he fell to the ground in complete despair. Oh, the evil man, what could have possessed him to take the slippers that rightly belonged to him! HIM! Raoul, him, his! The villain walked into a carriage. Raoul immediately jumped on behind. He road, the wind blowing his girly boy hair, Yes, he the hero he the joy he the chick magnet he the fop he Christine's pride and joy! Oh, yes he would get those slippers and live happily ever after! He would know the slippers, understand the slippers, love the slippers, Date the slippers, HE WOULD BE THE SLIPPERS! The house stopped in front of a large house, very much like his own, but he didn't care, he would have a stake out. Watch and wait. Ten hours past, ten hours of the hate swelling in him, the man walked out. NO! He was WEARING the slippers. In a cry on complete rage he flew threw the air landing on the poor man in a heap.  
"MINE!" he yelled ripping the slippers off of the feet of the man, leaving him barefoot. Good gosh, this man didn't wear any socks; they would have to be disinfected. He ran down the street like mad. "Mine their mine, all mines. THEIR MINE!" yet this one fatal yell, oh, if he only hadn't yelled. But he did. The judge said twenty years behind bars. And the only person that lived happily ever after was the strange masked figure that had bought the shoes.

And the moral of this story is, buying slippers is as dangerous as war.

The End

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	2. Escape of the Fop

The escape of the Fop

Disclaimer: Ha-ha! I bought Erik Raoul and Christine at a pawn shop! So I DO own them! Joking Oh, and I don't own Prairie Dogs either.

Raoul paced back and forth in the prison. Six months! Well, five and one fourth give or take a few hours. It wasn't that he minded being there, why the guard had been kind enough to give him a mirror where he could spend endless hours gazing at himself. Physiologists call this acute narcissism, but he called it perfect looks forever! The only real problem was his clothes were no longer in style, he was-heaven forbid, OUT OF STYLE! It was on this fateful day that Raoul had his profound idea, like the leapfrog, Raoul's mind went that extra jump, he decided to escape. It wasn't safe for him here anymore. Not with his clothes getting more out of date by the minute and an insane slipper stealer on the loose. His plan was plain and simple. It consisted of six easy steps,

Whack the guard on the head when he came to bring his meal.

Switch clothes with him.

Sneak out in the cover of darkness.

Find the slipper stealer.

Kill the slipper stealer.

Live happily ever after.

And that was as far as he planned, the slippers would be his, that's all that mattered. Of course Philippe would probably ground him from going to the Opera for about a year, and the salon was probably a big no, no. But heck, anything for the slippers! That evening the guard came to deliver the meager meal of cheese and bread. Perspiration was forming on his acne free brow, the door opened, the guard entered.

WHACK! Raoul's soft pudgy hand landed on the muscular man's head, the man blinked. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Nothing happened. Raoul had forgotten that he hadn't exercised once in his life, all his life had been spent shopping. Or going to the Opera with a girl he would never see again. He never understood why they dumped him. I mean wasn't he the most interesting subject in the world? The man grabbed his arm and, "Hey, dude? Save your energy." WHACK! Raoul sobbed. How could this be happening? It had been full proof! WHACK! WHACK! The man rolled his eyes.  
W

H

A

C

K ! The guard slapped Raoul's soft head. And he remembered no more. He awoke a week later. "I'm dead! Despair! Suicide! Homicide! Perry Mason! Unfair! MY SLIPPERS ARE GONE! Gone with the wind!" he continued this pitiful crying for about fifteen more minutes before he looked up. His room had been cleaned up a little, and sunlight streamed in threw an open window…AN OPEN WINDOW! He jumped for joy. ESCAPE! Now the jail he was being kept at was over looking the Seine River. But of course when Raoul was moved in he hadn't known that. He jumped, he fell. SPLASH! CHOKE! SPUTTER! SWIM! He climbed onto the bank gasping, but it didn't matter he was free! Now to find the Slipper Stealer.

Please review! Coming Soon The fault of the Fop.


	3. The Fault of the Fop

The Fault of the Fop

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera any more; I gave him away to the Goodwill!

Raoul picked him self up from the edge of the Seine, his insane mind turning quickly. Behind him he saw the whole prison light quite a spectacular show at night, but because Raoul had been stupid enough to escape during the day he was not given the pleasure of seeing it. They obviously knew he had escaped, and were on his trail. "No, they will not catch _ME!_" he thought stood up and ran for dear life. He was quite a sight running in a torn sopping wet suite in the middle of Paris. "Yes, yes" he snickered, snickered, snickered. "This MUST be the street! HAHA!" he burst into maniacal laughter, He turned the next corner, only a block left and the slippers would be his! "Here we go gathering nuts in May, nuts in May, nuts in May…" he sang as he skipped joyfully, "I shall get them." he called, "and take them for me!" Now he sounded VERY much like Gollum, so much in fact that for the next five hours he was surrounded by Gollum, and Sméagol fan girls, they are separate groups you know. It was late evening before he burst threw the crowds crying out for the millionth time, "I am NOT Andy Circus! I BEG of you, there is an insane slipper stealer on the loose! Hide your slippers! Save yourselves! PLEASE," He sighed as the last crazed fan girl crawled out of site, Only in Paris could there be Gollum fan girls. He drug his exhausted body to the next corner, only to see… No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! A simple sign was hanging in the yard.

For Sale

500,000

Please call Ima Geek

473-092-7837

Raoul blinked, crickets chirped, a tumble weed rolled by, "Why does that always happen?" thought Raoul. But his foppish passions suddenly hit him hard. "HOW! WHERE! OH! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN! DEATH! To the slipper stealer, not me." He quickly added. He prowled the grounds, could the maniac have buried the treasure on the grounds, for Raoul, the WORLD'S greatest detective to find? Had he forgotten about dear 'ol Sherlock? Of course not, the slipper stealer was far to cunning, the devil! UG! He screamed and kicked the tumble weed that had rolled at his feet…

To be continued…


	4. The Final Adventure of the Fop

The Final Adventure of the Fop

Disclaimer: UG! I DO own POTO! My grandma gave it to me for my birthday! But I intend to give it away again, up for grabs as soon as possible.

Raoul looked about in vain, somewhere out of this maze, this labyrinth of hate, but where! He glanced about that slumped to the ground, "Oh despair!" He cried in extreme dread and, well of course despairs. "Hey there?" Asked a man. Raoul lifted his head, the tears streaming every which way.

"If your 'ook'in for Mister Erik, he's ain't here, nope, nope." Raoul say a glimmer of hope. So the slipper stealers name was Erik was it, HE HAD HIM NOW! "Where did he go!" bellowed Raoul in a voice very much like Fezzick with a belly ache.

"Where is he?" the man asked back.

"I believe that's what I said?" Raoul said, though he couldn't be sure, he had a habit of thinking things and saying things that sounded like an elephant barfing.

"That you did, we'l a whi'e back he was wa'king in his garden when an insane man tack'ed him!" Raoul listened intently, all this sounded _very _familiar.

"The man tore off his there shoes! And bashed poor master Erik's face on the pavement."

Wait, thought Raoul, wasn't _I _the person who tackled this so called Erik.

"We'l poor master's face was deformed by this smack on the pavement! 'ell after the trai'l Erik was ran out of town on a rai'w, He's be a liv'in under the opera house nows, yes he is…he is." UNDER THE OPERA HOUSE! Raoul pulse burned in his wrist, his heart pounded enough that a man in New York looked about wondering what the faint thumping noise was. Raoul thanked the man and hurried threw the streets, The cops were everywhere looking for him, but not at the Opera House, no there were never cops at the Opera House. Unless you're watching that stupid old version, when Raoul IS a policeman. He hurried in, he found the old hag Madam Giry, "Where's ERIK!" He cried. "Oh, he's being in the third cellar, fall down a hole. And there you'll be!" of course, Erik had only been down there for about four months so the torture chamber hadn't been built yet. This is NOT like the book Raoul jumped, it was quite a fall. "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Raoul screamed than landed on his face on the ground. In front of him stood a man, his face was masked with black velvet, and his tux was of the utmost fashion. But too Raoul horror he was not wearing the slippers! "Where are the slippers you clot!" Raoul said using most his vocabulary in one breath. Erik blinked, than laughed, "Oh yes those! I got rid those weeks ago."

Raoul clutched his stomach as nausea seeped over him like a wave. "w…w….wha…WHAT!" He screamed, "Oh, yes." Replied the man. "These are what are in _now._" Erik waved his boot in front of Raoul. "Nifty high heeled boots!" Raoul looked at the perfectly gorgeous shoe, imminently is heart longed for it, but he had no time to grab them before he heard. "Erik-poo!" Was that not Christine's voice. Erik kicked Raoul in the face with the lovely shoe. "Coming Christine-smuggles!" He called back. WHAT! Raoul thought. His slippers, his boots and his girl all taken away in one day! He crumpled to the ground. There was a knock at Erik's door, but he didn't care who it was. "We have reason to believe you have a clefed maniac at you house." Bellowed the voice. "Why yes," said Erik.

His slippers, his boots, his girl… not to mention his freedom.

And once again Erik and Christine lived happily ever after.

THE END!

REVEIWS! PLEASE!


	5. The Raoul Song

The Raoul Song

Disclaimer: I do not 'The Phantom of the Opera' I gave it to Syen.

I lost my slippers,

Blah, blah, blah, blah,

My hair is in need of clippers,

Blah, blah, blah, blah

Tears spring to my eye,

Blah, blah, blah, blah,

I must tell the slippers 'Goodbye'

Blah, blah…

I lost Christine,

Oh me, oh my,

She threw out my ring,

Oh me, oh my,

She married Erik,

Oh me, oh my

I don't think I can take it,

Oh me….

I lost my freedom,

Wha, wha, wha, wha,

I don't have a chum,

Wha, wha, wha, wha,

No one loves me,

Wha, wha, wha, wha,

I wish I was free,

Wha, wha…

I'm all alone,

No, no, no, no

I have no home,

No, no, no, no

I want to go to the salon,

No, no, no, no,

My hope is gone,

No, no….

The End!

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